Black Eyes and Jealousy
by agirlnamedraven
Summary: The conversation between Rose and Dimitri after Rose's fight with her mother...


A/N: Hey Guys! This one's dedicated to littlevampette because she requested it. If there are any scenes you'd like me to do, just let me know and I'll look at them! I didn't create VA, FB, or SK. They're Richelle Mead's. Enjoy!

Dimitri's POV

As I was walking towards the gym, I heard laughter. Rounding the corner, Mason Ashford and Rose appeared.

"I know. Just be there, ok?" Rose said to Ashford. I didn't know what they were talking about, but it probably had to do with some Christmas plans.

"Absolutely." He replied, bowing low. I had to chuckle. He had it bad for her. And I could understand why. She was beautiful, brilliant, charming young woman. However, seeing him with her brought out the jealous side in me, even though I had been trying to mask the feelings I felt. She deserved to be with someone whom she could be seen in public with. She deserved someone who she could be with, and not get kicked out of the Academy because of it. She deserved someone other than me.

Ashford started to walk away as I neared their spot. When Rose saw me, something happened. Her mood suddenly shifted. Before spotting me, she had been happy; after, she seemed… almost embarrassed. I had heard about the fight between her and her mother, and that seemed the most logical explanation for her rapid shift in mood.

I led her into the room with all of the practice dummies, and gave her a stake. "Just practice the moves we worked on two days ago." I said. She accepted the stake and began ripping into the dummies.

Sitting in a chair off to the side, I could almost see her pent up frustration and anger spilling out. A few times, I stopped her and adjusted a hand position, or the angle of the stake. Her long hair swayed back and forth, catching my eye more than once. Finally, I realized why. She was wearing it down, which could be extremely dangerous in a battle.

"Your hair's in the way. Not only are you blocking your peripheral vision, you're running the risk of letting your enemy get a handhold." I told her, worried. Usually, Rose was always careful.

"If I'm actually in a fight, I'll wear it up." She said, continuing to stake a dummy. The stake slid up, almost perfectly, but hitting one of the 'ribs.' She seemed to be pushing herself harder and harder. "I'm just wearing it down today, that's all." Her language presented one picture, her tone another. Something was bothering her, and I needed to know what it was. She could seriously hurt herself, which is the last thing I needed.

"Rose." I said, in my 'I'm not playing around' voice. She completely ignored me, turning a deaf ear. "_Rose_. Stop." She finally stepped away from the dummy, breathing harder than usual. She unconsciously backed away from me, and looked surprised when she hit the wall. Her eyes flicked to mine, and then to the floor. Yes, something was indeed wrong.

"Look at me." I said, needing to see her eyes. Her eyes always gave her away. It was how I could determine what was wrong. But today, she didn't want to look at me.

"Dimitri—"

"_Look at me._" I could see the war raging in her head. She was half tempted to refuse, but I knew she wouldn't. She was still my pupil. She had to follow orders, and this was most certainly an order.

Slowly, she turned towards me. I stood up, and walked towards her. My hand reached out to brush her hair out of her eyes, but then stopped. I couldn't let myself touch her. It would do neither of us any good if feelings were rekindled.

Her chin rose, and her eyes met mine. Hair was still partially obscuring her face, but I was in control enough not to slip up again. My hands stayed at my side. "Does it hurt?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I had been on the receiving end of a few black eyes myself and knew she was in at least some discomfort.

"No." she lied. She was trying to put on a bold front, but even without our bond, I could tell she wasn't telling the truth.

"It doesn't look so bad. It'll heal." I said, trying to calm her. I could see her getting more and more worked up, and too late I realized that her eye was the issue.

With pure venom in her words, she spat, "I hate her." It even surprised me, and I had been on the receiving end of some pretty nasty words and looks in Portland.

"No you don't." My words were soft, but my thoughts were hard. She didn't truly know what it was like to hate someone with such a burning passion. Thoughts of Ivan flitted through my head, but quickly disappeared.

"I _do_." She protested, not backing down.

"You don't have time to hate anyone. Not in our profession. You should make peace with her." I replied. Which seemed to be the right thing to say, but it had the opposite effect.

"Make peace with her? After she gave me a black eye _on purpose_! Why am I the only one who sees how crazy this is?" she ranted. Shock consumed me. She actually thought Janine had done it on purpose? It was impossible.

"She absolutely did _not_ do it on purpose. No matter how much you resent her, you have to believe that. She wouldn't do that, and anyway, I saw her later that day. She was worried about you." Indeed, it was the most worried I'd ever seen Janine Hathaway. While preparing to fight countless Strigoi, she was the most calm person. And then, after seeing her daughter get a black eye, she completely freaked out. She had most definitely not done it on purpose.

"Probably more worried someone will bring her up on child abuse charges." She mumbled. I almost laughed. If anyone deserved to be brought up on child abuse charges, it'd be me, with the amount of bruises and bumps she got from sparring with me.

Trying to appeal to her better nature, I said, "Don't you think this is the time of year for forgiveness?" Again, it seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

"This isn't a Christmas special! This is my life. In the real world, miracles and goodness just don't happen."

She was just getting more and more worked up, but I was glad that she was channeling it towards me, and not someone that she'd get in a lot of trouble with.

"In the real world, you can make your own miracles." I said, still a calm rock she could anchor to. At least on the outside. On the inside, my heart was breaking. I hated to see her suffer, which she was most certainly suffering. She was having a hard time finding where she fit in. She was hurt that her mother suddenly showed up, not even bothering to tell her. I couldn't relate, because I had a very good relationship with my mother.

Something broke. A rush of emotion came pouring over the carefully erected dam. Throwing her hands to her hips, she demanded, "Ok, can you just stop this for once?" I was slightly confused.

"Stop what?" I asked for clarification.

"The whole profound Zen crap thing. You don't talk to me like a real person. Everything you say is just some wise, life-lesson nonsense. You really sound like a Christmas special." She said, voice raising with every sentence. "I swear, sometimes it's just like you want to hear yourself talk! And I know you're not always this way. You were perfectly normal when you talked to Tasha. But with me? You're just going through the motions." I could hear the bite of jealously when she said Tasha's name. So that was part of the problem. She didn't like the fact that I was close with another woman. "You don't care about me. You're just stuck in your stupid mentor role."

Her words cut deep. I cared about her more than anyone else. More than I even should, and she knew it. She was just looking for a reaction. By the time she was done with her tirade, she was practically yelling. I couldn't do anything except stare.

"I don't care about you?" I echoed. My mind was having a hard time processing those five words.

"No. I'm another student to you. You just go on and on with your stupid life lessons so that—" I lost it. What little self control I had been able to maintain flew out the proverbial window.

My hand struck out, pushing her pointing hand to the wall. "_Don't_ tell me what I'm feeling." The want, the need, the desire, it all coursed through my body, like a poison spreading through my veins.

Her eyes lit up. She must have figured it out. "That's it, isn't it?" she asked, and feigned innocence… Well kind of.

"What?"

"You're always fighting for control. You're the same as me." And she had a point, well half of a point. I did always have to fight for control, especially around her, but I had found it.

"No. I've learned my control." I heard my voice say. She pushed on, despite my attempts to stop this conversation.

"No, you haven't. You put on a good face, and most of the time you do stay in control. But sometimes you can't. And sometimes…" she trailed off. "Sometimes you don't want to."

The second I heard her voice change, I knew I had to get out of the gym. However, the need coursing through my veins, held me in place. I took a deep breath, hoping my voice didn't betray me, and said, "Rose…"

She literally threw herself at me. Before I could comprehend anything, I felt her lips on mine, soft and warm. Without thinking, I kissed back. My free hand wound itself into her silky hair. I could feel our emotions swirling, finding release in this kiss.

'This is wrong. She's your student, your pupil. Stop this.' A little voice in the back of my head whispered. It broke through my trance, and I jerked myself back, away from her, stumbling.

"Do _not_ do that again." I said, catching my breath. How could I have let my defenses down? I thought. How could I let it get that far?

"Don't kiss me back, then." She replied, voice bitter.

I couldn't do anything except stare. I wanted her, but more importantly, I didn't like hurting her. Which I could tell I had just done. Finally, my voice came back. "I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control." I managed to choke out in what sounded like a strong voice. Yet, I could still feel my heart beating faster than usual.

"You're doing a great job." She said sardonically.

Closing my eye, I took a deep breath, and exhaled. I strode quickly towards the door of the gym, not looking back. "бляпашлифсенахуймудаки" I muttered, giving thanks that she hadn't started to pick up on my Russian.


End file.
